


Hey, Bartender

by havarti2



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havarti2/pseuds/havarti2
Summary: When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender. Cross-post from Fanfiction.net.





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Marvel, or otherwise I wouldn't be here. I do own Rebecca though.

Dr. Bruce Banner sitting on a bar stool with a drink wasn’t unusual to Rebecca Chamberlain. She had been working as a bartender to pay off student debts from medical school, which she immediately enrolled in after her graduate school debts had been paid off. 

At eight o'clock sharp, Dr. Banner had strolled into the bar and slumped down his usual seat, leaning his arms on the counter and placing his head on them, sighing. Rebecca had noticed his glasses were missing and his hair was askew, unlike the combed look he usually maintained. He looked up at her, barely moving his head. 

“The usual, Banner?” She asked, cleaning a glass with a rag and moving over to his usual vermouth.

“Hey, Rebecca?” Banner asked from his spot on the counter. Rebecca looked over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“I’d like something stronger, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing. Whatcha want?”

“Scotch, please.”

Rebecca stopped in her tracks and turned to face the scientist, surprise gracing her features. 

“Are you sure? The stuff we’ve got is twice as strong as your usual, doc.” She said in concern as she put the bottle of vermouth back in its place and reached for the bottle of scotch.

“Yes.” Banner replied sullenly, returning to examining the wooden countertop, studying every groove disinterestedly.

“Okay then…” Rebecca pulled the bottle of scotch and poured a glass for the scientist. She slid it expertly down the counter, not spilling a drop on the surface stained from past attempts. 

Bruce nodded and took it in his hand. His eyes wandered over it for a brief moment before he downed the drink. Rebecca blinked in shock as he held out the glass to her, wordlessly asking for another round. 

“S-sure.” She refilled the glass and handed it back. Bruce downed it in seconds before placing it back on the counter.

“Hey, Rebecca?” Bruce asked again, looking up at Rebecca.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk?” 

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at the doctor’s request. It was odd, but she went to school for that sort of thing. “If you want to, I don’t see why not. What’s up?”

Bruce sat in silence, head down, gazing at the counter.

“...You okay, Banner?” 

“Everyone’s against me, Rebecca. I know they are.”

Rebecca blinked. “Who’s against you, Banner?”

“My team.”

Now, Rebecca was really confused. Team?

“Team, Banner?”

Bruce looked up at her. “Yeah. Team.” 

“What do you mean? I’m confused.”

“The others. My team. You know.” 

“I really don’t, Banner. You aren’t making sense.”

“The Avengers.”

Rebecca didn’t know what to say. Banner was an Avenger? ‘That’s crazy. He can’t be an Avenger. There’s no way. He must’ve over done it.’ She thought.

“The Avengers?”

Banner looked Rebecca directly in the eye. “Yes.”

“Wh-why do you think they’re against you?”

“I’m not thinking. I know they are.”

“Why though?”

“I’m a monster, Rebecca. A huge, green, terrifying monster.”

‘He’s talking about the Hulk.’ Rebecca thought.

“You aren’t a monster, Banner. I know you aren’t.”

The words flew out of her mouth before she knew it. Bruce looked up at her with sorrowful eyes.

“But I am, Rebecca. I destroy things. I could hurt people.” 

“You don’t mean to, though.”

“It happens whether I mean to or not. I can’t control him.” Bruce laid his head on the counter, facing Rebecca.

Realization dawned on Rebecca’s face as she figured out how she could help the sullen scientist.

“Maybe instead of trying to control him, you could become friends with him. That way, you both could reach an understanding and you both would feel better about each other.”

Banner looked up. ‘She has a point…’ 

“Of course, that won’t happen overnight. You both need to invest time and energy into building a friendship.”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll try, Rebecca. Thank you.”

He stood up and reached into his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out money for the drinks. Rebecca put it into her pocket for the register, and started to walk over to the aforementioned machine, when Banner called out.

“Rebecca!”

She turned ever so slightly to face him. In his outstretched hand was a twenty dollar bill.

“Doc, you already payed.” Rebecca responded, oblivious to what he was doing.

“It’s your tip. Thank you for the advice, Rebecca. I’ll definitely remember it.” 

“It’s what I do. Have a good rest of your evening, Doc.” She held the twenty in her hand and smiled at the doctor as he left the bar for the first and last time that evening.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Marvel. I own Rebecca.

Rebecca could not have been more bored. She had wiped the tables and the counter four times, swept the floor twice, reorganized the bottles in alphabetical order by name and type of drink (which hadn’t been easy, there were A LOT of drinks), washed every glass at least once, and even reorganized the register. Business was slow, but that was normal for a Tuesday.

That is, until he walked through the door.

Everyone looked up from their drinks out of vague interest to see who had entered the bar. But everyone exploded into whispers when they saw his face.

Tony Stark just walked into the bar.

He ignored everyone and sat down on one of the barstools, eyes scanning over the drinks on the reorganized wall in front of him. Rebecca stopped re-cleaning the glass she was holding and looked over to the billionaire at the counter. His eyes stopped wandering and his gaze landed directly on her.

“Did you do this?” he asked, gesturing to the wall with his head.

“Yes, sir.” Rebecca replied, unsure if that was the correct answer or not.

“What’s your name.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“That’s your name?”

“No, sir. My name’s Rebecca.”

He looked at her blankly for a minute, as if deep in thought. Rebecca stood still, waiting for the genius to say something.

“You go by Becky?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cool. Saying Rebecca over and over must be annoying. I’m gonna call you Becky. Or Becks. Becks is okay, right?”

“Yes, sir. Becks is okay.”

“Cool. And wouldya drop the ‘sir’? It’s weird. Just talk to me like I’m your best friend or something.”

“You sure you want me to do that?”

“Yep.”

“‘Kay. Cool. Nice ta meet ya, Stark.” 

“Likewise, Becks.”

“Now, what can I getcha?”

“Scotch.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Rebecca could feel the stares digging into her back from the other customers, but she paid them no mind as she poured the scotch. Stark watched her do so, studying every movement intently.

She came over to Tony holding the drink. 

“Here ya go.”

“Thanks.”

Tony took a long drink of scotch, the other customers watching as he did so. His eyes were not looking at any of them, however. His eyes narrowed, but stayed on Rebecca.

She couldn’t stand it anymore. She turned around to face the genius. “Yes?” she asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

“Nothing, just wondering if you’re any good at science.”

“Uh, I guess I’m okay at science. Never blew anything up in school. Why?”

“I was thinking, ‘Maybe she’d like to work with me’. If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

Rebecca blinked slowly, calm facade turning into a face of pure shock. The Tony Stark wanted her to work with him? 

“Yes! I’d love to work with you. It’ll be great!” she cheered, bringing a smirk to Tony’s face as he took another long drink. 

“Get your stuff when you’re ready, here’s my card. I look forward to working with you, Becks.” he said, handing her a business card. Rebecca smiled. 

“Same here, Stark. Same here.”

His smirk turned into a smile as he put the money down on the counter and handed back the glass. Rebecca took the money and put it in the cash register, smiling as the billionaire soon to be her boss left the bar, waving behind him.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own Marvel. Own Rebecca.

After two days of interactions with Avengers in the bar, Rebecca thought she could have a normal day at work. Oh, how wrong she was.

Wednesday morning, twenty minutes after opening, a blond man with a very large hammer strode through the doors. Rebecca looked up from cleaning the counter right into the eyes of Thor. She instinctively backed up from the close proximity of the god’s face. Right into the shelves that held the bottles of booze.

Bottles fell around her and she shrieked. The sound of broken glass was never heard, however. Rebecca opened one eye to see the bottles placed on the counter, Thor smiling at her. 

“I apologize for frightening you, fair maiden.” He stated rather loudly. He took Rebecca’s hand in his, the size difference laughable. He gently kissed her hand in a princely manner, seeing as he was a prince. Rebecca blushed.

“I-It’s okay.” She stammered, beginning to get lost in the blue of his eyes. She quickly snapped herself out of it, mentally scolding herself, saying that it wasn’t professional to fall for the customers. He smiled at her again, a wide, toothy, happy-go-lucky grin.

“What would you like?” Rebecca asked, trying not to reach over the counter and squeeze him in a bear hug. He’s like a giant golden retriever, she thought.

“Midgardian drinks are not strong enough for me.” Thor stated bluntly, eyes wandering over the drinks as Rebecca put them back on the problematic shelf. 

A lightbulb went off over Rebecca’s head as she remembered a long-forgotten memory. When she first started working at the bar, her boss said that there was one drink that no mortal was allowed because it was too strong.

“Rebecca, never give this to anyone. Anyone mortal, that is.” He warned.

He handed her the bottle. She looked over, inspecting the glass surface. “Why?” she asked.

“It came from a customer a long time ago. He said it was not to be consumed by mortal men.” Her boss recounted, taking the bottle back from her. She watched as he walked out to the shelves and placed it on the very end of the top shelf.

“Hold on a second, I might have something for you.” Rebecca told Thor, confusion and curiosity evident on his face. She walked over to the end of the shelf and reached up to the top. On her tiptoes, of course. She wasn’t that tall, afterall. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the Forbidden Booze, as her coworkers had affectionately named it. She pulled it down, and inspected it one last time before showing it to the god. His eyes widened.

“This is Asgardian mead. How in the Nine Realms did you come to acquire it?” He asked, incredulous to the fact that a bar in Midgard had such a drink.

“My boss said that we got it from a customer a long time ago. Want some?” She replied, pulling out a glass just in case.

“I would indeed.”

A smile graced Rebecca’s lips as she poured a glass of the ale for the Asgardian. He took it from the counter with a “Thank you,” as he took a long drink. He smiled as he put the empty glass back down.

“That was most refreshing. Thank you, fair Lady.” 

“You’re welcome, Thor.”

He handed her the money for the drink and sat back down on the barstool. After she put the money into the register, Rebecca looked up at him.

“You need anything else?”

He looked at her with another ear-to-ear grin. “No, I do not require anything more. I was thinking about what brother Anthony told me.”

“Brother Anthony?”

“You mortals know of him by the name Tony Stark, is that not correct?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t know you called him that. Mind telling me what he said?” 

“He told me that you were ‘the greatest bartender that he ever had the pleasure of meeting’. Curiosity had taken hold of me, and I thought, ‘I must meet this bartender he speaks so highly of.’ And that is why I have come to this bar.” 

“Huh. Tell him I say thanks.” Rebecca smiled.

“For once, I agree with Brother Anthony. You are a wonderful Midgardian.”

Rebecca blushed. No one had ever treated her so well and so kindly. “Thank you.” 

Thor nodded and smiled. He glanced over at the clock. “I am afraid I must leave. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rebecca.” 

“It was pleasure to meet you as well, Thor.” Rebecca replied, a grin placed on her face. 

“I hope that we meet again, Lady Rebecca.” Thor said as he walked out. Rebecca was about to tell him he had to pay, but as she placed her hands on the counter, a couple of round, hard, metal objects pressed into her palms. She looked down at the counter. Gold coins sat there where the God of Thunder was just moments ago. 

Rebecca smiled. ‘Three Avengers down, four days to go, I guess. At the end of the week, I’ll be at Stark Tower…’ She thought to herself as she put the coins in the cash register.


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I still have to do this? I don't own Marvel. I own Rebecca.

Thursday. Only three more days until Rebecca started working for Tony Stark. She still had to pack up her stuff from her job at the bar, which was what she had spent the lazy morning hours doing. 

People started filling in the empty chairs around five, which was normal enough. 

That is, until both the front windows shattered, shards of broken glass spraying the (screaming) customers. Rebecca jumped, startled by the screams. A group of twelve alien-like creatures stepped through the window frames, causing the customers to scramble as far away as they could, which meant out the door and into the streets. Rebecca grabbed one of the sharper knives from behind the counter and stalked her way over to the creatures as silently and stealthily as she could. One must have heard her, however, because it turned around to face her. Rebecca froze in her tracks, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, knife in hand. It took a step towards her, but it stopped.

A barrage of arrows sailed through the open space where the windows were, stabbing eleven of the twelve creatures in the head. At first, it appeared to Rebecca that the arrows had no affect. 

Then, the arrowheads exploded.

Alien brains erupted from the destroyed skulls, effectively killing them. Only one remained. It turned to face the bodies of its comrades, lying dead on the now-bloodstained floor. Rebecca unfroze, seizing her chance. She leapt at the alien/creature, slitting its throat then piercing its skull, lodging the knife into its brain. It seemed to turn to face her again, but it dropped to the floor, the knife wounds few yet fatal. 

Rebecca took a couple of quick, wide-eyed breaths before her heart rate slowed from the adrenaline rush. 

“Hey, thanks kid.” A voice called from outside. Rebecca whipped around, heart rate elevating once again. Standing outside the window was Hawkeye, dressed in full uniform.

“I-I… uh…” Rebecca stammered, shell-shocked from the whole ordeal. 

“Take a deep breath, it’ll help.” Hawkeye chuckled. Rebecca did as she was told. Once she calmed down a little, she looked back up at Hawkeye.

“Thank you, I needed that.” She mumbled. Hawkeye smiled at her.

“Ah, don’t mention it.” 

There was a moment of silence before Hawkeye spoke again.

“You’re really good with a knife.” He noted. Rebecca smiled.

“Thanks. I’ve had practice.” Rebecca replied. 

A thought popped into Rebecca’s mind as she looked Hawkeye up and down. “Hey, want a drink? Since you’re here and all.”

“Sure, I’d love one.” He smirked.

Rebecca retrieved the knife from the creature’s head and dropped it in the sink as she walked behind the counter to get a glass. “Pick whatever you want, it’s on the house.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Think of it as a thank you for saving me and the customers.” 

“Alright, ya got any vermouth?” 

“Ooh, you like the stronger stuff?” Rebecca asked, a joking smile on her face as she poured a glass and set it on the counter.

“Not really, just need something to numb the pain.” Hawkeye replied as he downed the glass.

“I could help with that.” Rebecca offered.

“That sounds like a flirt to me, kiddo.” Hawkeye joked.

“One, I’m twenty-four. Two, I’m a medical student.” Rebecca deadpanned as she took the first aid kit out from under the counter. 

“If you’re a medical student, then why are you working in a bar?” Hawkeye questioned as Rebecca started disinfecting and bandaging his cuts and scrapes. 

“That’s another story for another time.” She murmured, wrapping gauze around a larger cut.

“Ah, I see. Everyone’s entitled to their secrets.” Hawkeye replied. 

Just as Rebecca was about to ask what he meant by that, his attention was directed to his earpiece. “Sorry, I need to take this.” 

“Sure, go ahead.” 

A couple of words and slight nods later, Hawkeye ceased his conversation through his earpiece.

“Sorry about that, I need to go.” He responded.

“It’s alright, go. The city needs the World’s Best Archer.” Rebecca smiled at him. He nodded and left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Rebecca sighed. 

“So much for a normal Thursday. Welp, that’s Avenger Number Four. I wonder if the other two will come this week...”

With that said, Rebecca went to the back to find the broom to sweep up the broken glass and dispose of the dead creatures that bled on the floor.


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all already know what I'm gonna say at this point. I only own Rebecca.

By the time Friday rolled around, Rebecca was expecting another Avenger to pop into the bar. Two days left in the bar, after all. And sure enough, one did.  
Natasha Romanoff sat down at the stool on the far right side of the bar, watching the other customers with a suspicious gaze. She eyed the bartender walking towards her. The bartender stopped at the end and smiled.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” The bartender asked.

“Do you have any Russian vodka? Someone drank mine.” Natasha replied, putting a slight emphasis on the end of her statement.

“I think we might. I know for certain we have Asgardian mead.” The bartender answered over her shoulder as she looked through the bottles of alcohol.

“Why do you have that?”

“I have no idea. Hey! We do have some vodka left! Well, whaddaya know.”

Pouring a glass of vodka, the bartender expertly slid the glass down the countertop, right into Natasha’s hands.

“Thanks.” She replied, taking a sip.

“No problemo.”

There was silence between the two for a moment as Natasha took another sip. “So, what’s your name?” She asked, looking the bartender up and down.

“Rebecca.”

“So it’s you then. The one that Stark won’t shut up about.” Natasha grumbled into the glass.

“Heh, is he really doing that? I’m supposed to start working with him on Monday.”

“Yeah, he won’t stop talking about how ‘he got the bartender lady to work with him’.” 

Rebecca laughed.

“Stark sure is funny, isn’t he?”

“Pfft. He thinks he’s hilarious. He’s just annoying and loud.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just you wait. You’ll see.” Natasha finished her drink and slid some money on the counter.  
“Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

Natasha left the bar while Rebecca inserted the money in the cash register.

Rebecca whistled to herself. “Black Widow, huh? Gotta say, she’s pretty chill.”

“I guess there’s one more left. I bet he’ll show sooner or later.”


	6. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I only own Rebecca. *sigh*

Saturday, the busiest day of the week. It was late, and the bar was crowded as usual. Rebecca was running from one end of the bottle rack to the other, drinks precariously balanced in her arms. Usually, she wouldn’t be the only one, but her coworkers both called in with the flu.

Once the customers were sated for the moment, Rebecca sighed. Unfortunately that moment didn’t last very long. 

A particularly rude customer, extremely drunk, most likely, called Rebecca over to his table. 

“Heyyyyy sweetieee, howzabout yous an me hav a lil fuuun tunnigh’? He slurred, reaching out to grab Rebecca’s upper thigh.

“I’ll pass.” Rebecca took a step away from the man. He only leaned closer.

“Awwww c’mon dahhhhl, jusss yous an meee…” He lunged for her. Rebecca squealed, but another hand intercepted the drunk’s own.

“You heard the lady, she said no.” 

The drunk’s arm was twisted back in what looked to be like a very painful fashion. He screamed and tried tearing his arm away from his assailant. The other man, however, held fast and maintained his iron grip. Soon, the drunk was reduced to nothing more than a blubbering mess of tearful apologies. He dropped a wad of cash from his wallet on the table and ran for his life, stumbling all the while.

“Thanks…” Rebecca breathed, eyes wide. 

“It was no trouble, ma’am.” The man replied. 

“I feel the need to give my savior a drink on the house.”

“You don’t need to do that, miss…?” 

“Rebecca.”

“Miss Rebecca, then?”

“Just Rebecca’s fine. And who’re you, Dorito Man?”

“Steve Rogers, ma’am.” Steve introduced. 

“Such an American name.” Rebecca commented. 

“Thank you?” The comment confused Steve. Were all civilians in this century so… strange?

“What can I getcha, Mr. Rogers?” Rebecca asked, hopping over the counter with ease. 

“It’s Captain, actually.” Steve mumbled, deep in thought. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. What can I getcha, Captain Rogers?” Rebecca corrected herself, albeit being slightly sarcastic, which wasn’t her intention. 

“Anything’s fine. I can’t get drunk, you see.” 

“Sooo, ya want the strongest thing we’ve got?” Rebecca asked, slyly sliding over to the flask of Asgardian mead. 

“If by some circumstance you have something not from Earth, I will not have it. Especially anything Asgardian.” Steve answered, watching her as she moved. 

“DAMNIT I WANTED TO SEE YOU DRUNK.” Rebecca swore. Steve laughed. 

“Thor’s tried. It didn’t work.” Steve glared at the flask, something telling Rebecca otherwise. 

“The golden retriever-man-god totally got you hammered, didn’t he.” Rebecca smirked, waggling her eyebrows. 

Steve was silent for a minute. “Yes… and was that a pun?”

“Now it is.” Rebecca gave him a Cheshire Cat grin, similar to one a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist might make. 

“No wonder Stark liked you so much, you act just like him…” Steve grumbled. 

“Not all the time, just most of it.” Rebecca smiled. 

“I’m assuming you’ve packed up most of your things by now?” Steve asked, observing Rebecca as she worked. 

“Uhhh, I was planning on doing that later…?” Rebecca cringed at her awkwardness and procrastination. 

Steve laughed. “You sure are strange.”

“I get that a lot.” 

“Well, I suggest that you pack as soon as your shift ends, Stark’s eager to have you in the Tower as soon as possible. And thank you for offering a drink. Maybe at the Tower, you can try again?” Steve asked, smirking slightly, just enough to be attractive and not enough to be cocky. Rebecca blushed.

“Well, you’re the last one here, so as soon as you’re outta here, my shift ends.” She smirked back.

“Then I’ll take my leave, and you’ll pack.”

“That’s right, Cap’n. I’ll see you at the Tower, ‘less you wanna stop by again so I can get you plastered.”

Steve chuckled. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Rebecca.” 

He stood up, pushed in his chair, and put money on the counter. 

“A tip for such a kind bartender.”

Rebecca saluted to him.

“I look forward to working with you, Captain Rogers, and thank you for the tip.”

He saluted back.

“And I look forward to having one of your drinks, Stark raves about them.” 

With that, the sixth and final Avenger left the bar.


	7. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers have a bad day or some free time, they head out to the bar. Rebecca Chamberlain tells her tales as the bartender in Hey, Bartender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the last time (in this fic anyway), I own Rebecca and I don't own Marvel.

Rebecca sighed. Sunday had finally arrived. Tomorrow she’d start working with Tony Stark. 

“Maybe I should’ve told him that I’m in med school…” She thought, leaning on her arms on the counter. The bell on the door rang and she looked up. A man, maybe in his late forties, sat down at the counter in front of her. She stood up.

“Hi, what can I get ya this fine afternoon?” She asked, walking over to the rack of glasses, picking up one.

“I’ve actually come here to talk to you, Miss Chamberlain.” The man said. Rebecca turned around on the balls of her feet to give the man a confused face.

“Oh? Is that so? What for?” She questioned, putting the glass back down.

“My name is Phil Coulson. You probably have heard of SHIELD, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I’ve heard about your talents, Miss Chamberlain. I was wondering if you’d like to join a certain team SHIELD has set up. I’m sure you’ve met the members by now.” Rebecca’s jaw dropped in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You want me to join the AVENGERS!?” She shrieked, nearly bumping into the glass rack behind her. Coulson nodded.

“That’s right. I know that Stark has asked you to work with him, and I saw it as an opportunity for you to use your talents for good. What do you say, Miss Chamberlain?” He smiled.

“I… I accept, Mister Coulson. I want to help.” Rebecca replied, the resolve in her voice clear as a bell.

Coulson smiled again. “Good. Welcome to the team, Miss Chamberlain.”

A moment passed before Coulson opened his mouth again. 

“May I get a glass of gin?” He asked, nodding towards the display. 

“Coming right up, sir.” Rebecca poured Coulson’s drink and gave it to him. He drank it slow and thoughtfully, as if savoring the taste. 

“Rebecca, thank you. I’ll message you when you get to the Tower.” He said when he placed the empty glass on the counter with some money. Then, he left. Rebecca watched him go before looking down at the counter, eyes shining with excitement.

“Looks like Freefall is back in action, baby. Look out world, here I come.”


End file.
